


A Harmless, Necessary Cat

by Thistlerose



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cats, F/M, Jossed, Pets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-09 23:38:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2002434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thistlerose/pseuds/Thistlerose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written in 2005 or 2006.  Set during "The Deathly Hallows" (which hadn't been published yet, so I was just speculating - I got one thing right!)  Thanks, in part, to Crookshanks, Ron and Hermione get to share a moment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Harmless, Necessary Cat

"Psst."

Hermione was awakened by Ron's hiss, and a gentle but insistent nudge against her ribs. She blinked.

"Crookshanks!"

The cat yowled as she threw her arms around him and hugged him close, but moments later he was purring thunderously and pushing his ugly, squashed face against her chin. "Crookshanks," she crooned. Tears stung her eyes and her chest ached as the hole inside it began to close. "Crookshanks… I thought I'd lost him," she explained brokenly to Ron, who was squatting beside her.

"I know."

"I didn't want to say anything because I didn't want to mess up the mission, and we were being trailed by those Death Eaters, but—"

"I know." Ron lowered himself to the cold, dusty tiles, stretched out on his side, and propped his chin up with his knuckles. "D'you want to know where I found him?" It was dark in the Shack but he obviously saw her nod because he went on, "Jumped out at me while I was taking a leak. I couldn't see a bloody thing. Something just thudded into me and stuck its claws in my shoulder. I shouted. Don't reckon anyone heard me, it's so windy out."

Hermione kissed the top of Crookshanks's head. "I'm so glad you found him."

"More like he found me."

"Still… Thanks."

At that moment Crookshanks seemed to decide that he had had enough love from his mistress. He wriggled out of her arms, positioned himself between her and Ron, and began to groom himself with industry.

"Where's Harry?" Hermione whispered.

"Upstairs, by the fireplace. Talking with Ginny."

"He's not still angry with her? For restarting the DA?"

"He didn't sound angry when I walked by them on my way here." Ron sounded slightly disgruntled.

Hermione tugged free the elastic band that held her hair back, and dangled it temptingly in front of Crookshanks's nose. He left off his grooming and took a curious sniff.

"It was silly of him to be angry," Hermione said. She yanked the band away just as Crookshanks sprang for it. He landed awkwardly and pretended that he'd meant to do precisely that. "I mean," Hermione continued, offering Crookshanks the band again, "she was right. Voldemort already knows she's close to Harry. She was at the Ministry that night. Besides, Malfoy knew that she and Harry were going out, and he was obviously communicating with Voldemort all last year—"

"Stop," said Ron.

"What? Saying Voldemort? It's just—"

"Listing all the reasons my sister would make a likely target."

"But it's true."

"Yeah, but I don't want to think about it right now. Ever since she told us what she was up to… I keep thinking about all the trouble she got into her first year."

"She was eleven then," Hermione reminded him gently. "She's sixteen now."

Ron was silent. After a moment, Hermione reached past Crookshanks – who had caught the hair band and was playing with it – and touched the back of his hand. She didn't say anything, but she didn't have to. Ron glanced at her hand, then back at her face. Then he leaned over her and kissed her mouth.

It was an awkward kiss because he couldn't see her face well, because her hair got in the way, and because Crookshanks chose that moment to abandon to his new toy and spring protectively between them.

This time, Hermione heard Ron's shout as Crookshanks swatted him with his claws. She grabbed the cat and shoved him out of the way. Then she grabbed Ron by the front of his jacket and yanked him close.

He landed on top of her with a grunt and there were a few more moments of fumbling before her hair was out of the way and his lips were kissing hers hungrily. Crookshanks yowled, but Hermione ignored him. She wrapped an arm around Ron's shoulders and stroked the back of his neck.

"I think," she said, when they broke the kiss, "that you should get into the sleeping bag with me."

"Is there room?"

"I can make room." And she did, with a wave of her wand. She unzipped the bag. "Come on."

He kicked off his trainers and slid in beside her. "This is cozy."

"Mmm." Hermione rested her cheek against his chest and draped her arm across his waist. She sighed with pleasure when he combed her hair away from her face and held it there. "Harry will see us when he comes back down."

Ron snorted. "It'll serve him right for letting me overhear what he was saying to my sister."

"What about what she was saying back to him?" Hermione felt the heat emanating from his face, and grinned. "She's sixteen," she reminded him again.

"I don't hear your cat," said Ron.

"He's probably skulking somewhere."

"What if he gets lost again?"

"I'll know he ran off just to spite me, not because he was killed by Death Eaters or something. Don't change the subject."

"But—"

"Fine, we'll talk about cats." Before he could protest, she said, "We'll talk about cats until you stop thinking about Harry and Ginny."

"I'm not thinking about Harry and Ginny," Ron interjected. "I'm thinking about what I'm going to do to him if he gets her in any trouble, or hurts her, or—"

"I had a cat named Thomasina," Hermione said, "when I was really little. She was a stray kitten. Actually, I named her Thomas, after Thomas the tank engine, but then we found out that she was a girl, and Mum insisted we call her Thomasina. I felt badly for her, because she'd been a stray and because she was stuck with what I thought was the stupidest name in the world. I was six, I think."

"Excuse me," grumbled Ron, "but if you had a little sister who was—"

"Thomasina," Hermione continued loudly. "She was grey, with darker grey stripes across her back. She had white front paws, and a white patch on her chest. She had green eyes. She was pretty. She was sort of ornery, even as a kitten, but I loved her. We had her for two years, and then she escaped. It happened while I was at school. There were some men over, fixing a pipe or something, and they left the door open a crack, and she slipped out."

Hermione closed her eyes. She could still see the toes of her red patent leather shoes, shining garishly in the kitchen light. She hadn't been able to look at her mum's face when she started saying that Thomasina couldn't be found. She gripped a fold of Ron's jacket.

"We looked everywhere. We made posters and hung them all over the neighborhood. We never found her. I was miserable. All I could think about was my cat, who was all alone somewhere. How was she eating? Did she know to be careful of cars? Why wouldn't she come back to me? Hadn't she liked sleeping on my pillow?"

"Sorry," Ron mumbled.

"I started making up stories about her," said Hermione. "I had to, or I'd've gone mad, worrying. Thomasina goes to the National Portrait Gallery. Thomasina has tea with the Queen. Thomasina befriends one of the pigeons outside Saint Paul's."

"A pigeon? And a cat?"

Hermione nodded against his chest. "I think it was winter, and they were both hungry, and the pigeon offered to share some chips he'd found. It was awfully twee, but it distracted me from worrying. I was about eight. I wrote some of the stories down, and I badgered one of my friends into illustrating them. She could draw and I couldn't."

"That's um…" Ron began. Then he seemed to change his mind about whatever he'd meant to say. "Sorry about Thomasina."

"I still miss her," said Hermione. "But it was a long time ago. I just remembered how frantic I was when she first disappeared – when I realized Crookshanks wasn't with us. Thank you for finding him."

"I told you, it's more like he found me. And – look. I know it's been a while, but I'm sorry I was such a prat about Crookshanks. Our third year, I mean. He was only doing what cats do, I reckon."

"Well, Scabbers was your pet. I mean, we couldn't have known he was working for Voldemort. I should've kept Crookshanks away from him."

"You should've let Crookshanks eat him," said Ron glumly. "It would've saved us quite a bit of trouble. And I'd've forgiven both of you. I mean, I did. When I really thought Crookshanks had eaten him."

"I know. Thank you." She turned her head so that her chin rested on his chest, and grinned up at him. "Not thinking about Harry and Ginny now, are you?"

"Oh, for—" He gave her hair an exasperated tug. "I wasn't, until you reminded me!"

She laughed and craned her neck to kiss him. He gathered her closer and shifted so that she lay between his legs. She felt the heat of him through his clothes, and thought about how easy it would be – and how good it would feel – to get him out of those clothes. They could hold each other in her sleeping bag, skin against skin.

It would be wrong, her conscience insisted, to carry on where Harry could see them, when he and Ginny weren't together – even if they were capable of scandalizing Ron via Floo. It wasn't fair, and it would hurt their mission if Harry resented the time they were stealing.

But Harry wasn't likely to resent it, Hermione thought, licking playfully at Ron's lower lip. Why was she even thinking about Harry now?

Ron yelped, startling Hermione. "What?"

"S-something. In the sleeping bag. Something hairy," he gasped. "Tickled my leg. If it's a—"

She put a finger to his lips. "It's not a spider." She felt around with her sock-clad foot until it connected with something soft – something that snarled and swatted at her foot when she kicked gently. "I should've rezipped the bag."

"Oh," said Ron. His voice wobbled slightly. "Er. So, it's—"

"Not quite the threesome you were hoping for," Hermione laughed.

"I don't want a threesome," Ron said, sounding aggrieved. "I want a twosome with you.

"How about this," Hermione said, stroking Crookshanks's flank with her foot. She heard his deep rumble through the sleeping bag's thick fabric. "How about…" She played her fingers over Ron's throat. He rumbled, too.

"How about…?" he prompted.

"How about," said Hermione, stroking the rough underside of his chin, "if – I mean when - we find our first Horcrux…we celebrate. Just the two of us. No Harry. I mean, of course we'll have a separate celebration with Harry. Not the same sort, but—"

"We'll have a celebratory drink with Harry," Ron interrupted. "And a celebratory twosome without him."

"Yes," said Hermione.

"And without the cat."

"Mrowr," said Crookshanks.

"Yes," said Hermione.

"It's a deal," said Ron.


End file.
